Providing a space for a dying person to meet with loved ones and receive blessings one last time can be incredibly magical. Such was the case for Leya. I did not know Leya, but when I met her, I felt like I had known her a long time. She suffered from liver and pancreatic cancer. Her swollen belly on her smallish frame made her look about six months pregnant. Her skin was orange. Her eyes, however, were shiny and clear. I was asked to facilitate a healing circle for her, and felt honored to do so. About twenty-five people gathered, some of whom had never sat in sacred circle before. Leya entered the room and was surprised to see all these loving faces there just for her. She went to lie in the special bed that was placed in the circle for her (she was not in the center of the circle, but was a part of the circle). After smudging with sage, we began to tone and drum. Invoking the four directions came next, as we asked for healing and guidance. (The four directions are the four corners of the universe, honored and respected cross-culturally.)

People then went around the circle introducing themselves, saying how they were connected to Leya and something they appreciated about her. The love and compassion in the room was delicious. Leya's spirit was very strong. Her presence was vital and energetic. Next, we began a chant as people went one by one offering flowers and blessings to her at her bedside. Many knew it would be the last time to see her in body. Her graciousness, beauty, love and gratitude were a powerful teaching for all of us. Her incredible peace radiated from her being -- that eternal unencumbered place. Before the closing of the circle, Leya said it was time for her to take her leave. It felt prophetic, now that I look back on it. It was truly her time, for the next evening, she died.

I cannot think of a better way for someone to pass from this world. The circle was magical and healing, and Leya took all that energy in and made her transition in peace and love. Some said she was waiting for the circle to happen before she passed. So, she did, and then she died in a way showing all who were there how to go in love. One of the women who organized this circle for her called me up the day after she died and told me how beautiful she felt Leya's passage was. She felt inspired to make sure that she, at her time, if possible, could spend time like that with loved ones offering blessings and love. There was no fear present. It was magical. I felt Leya had all the permission she needed to move on, and that she felt safe in the presence of so much love from the circle. I could see her being embraced by great loving arms, holding her to the breast, comforting her. It was a healing for all of us.

When something like this happens, the energy that ripples out from the center touches the world in profound ways. It transforms the deep-seated conditioning about fear of death, and makes it possible for us to find a more meaningful connection to our own lives, and to live our lives in more authentic ways. Something opens up and gives permission for us to be more loving and kind to ourselves and to one another. Perhaps we realize that life is short, and that what we do really does matter. Perhaps we come out of denial and addiction to wake up to what is real. Whatever it is, witnessing a peaceful, loving passage of someone in their death challenges us, at least in that moment, if we are paying attention, to face our fears and evaluate what is important in our lives.

From Midwifing Death: Returning to the Arms of the Ancient Mother